It was in the following autumn that a particular chariot drove up to the door of the Victoria Hotel, on the sh.o.r.e of Killarney lake. A young man of elegant bearing handed a very charming young lady from the chariot; aand that kindest and mos accommodating of hostesses, Mrs. F----, welcomed the fresh arrival with her good-humoured and smiling face.

Why, amidst the crowd of arrivals at the Victoria, one chariot should be remarkable beyond another, arose from its quiet elegance, which might strike even a casual observer; but the intelligent Mrs. F---- saw with half an eye the owners must be high-bred people. To the apartments already engaged for them they were shown; but few minutes were lost within doors where such matchless natural beauty tempted them without. A boat was immediately ordered, and then the newly arrived visitors were soon on the lake. The boatmen had already worked hard that day, having pulled one party completely round the lakes--no trifling task; but the hardy fellows again bent to their oars, and made the sleeping waters wake in golden flashes to the sunset, till told they need not pull so hard.

"Faith, then, we'll _plaze_ you, sir," said the stroke-oarsman, with a grin, "for we have had quite enough of it to-day."

"Do you not think, f.a.n.n.y," said Edward O'Connor, for it was he who spoke to his bride, "Do you not think 'tis more in unison with the tranquil hour and the coming shadows, to glide softly over the lulled waters?"

"Yes," she replied, "it seems almost sacrilege to disturb this heavenly repose by the slightest dip of the oar--see how perfectly that lovely island is reflected."

"That is Innisfallin, my lady," said the boatman, hearing her allude to the island, "where the hermitage is." As he spoke, a gleam of light sparkled on the island, which was reflected on the water.

"One might think the hermit was there too," said f.a.n.n.y, "and had just lighted a lamp for his vigils."

"That's the light of the guide that shows the place to the quality, my lady, and lives on the island always in a corner of the ould ruin. And, indeed, if you'd like to see the island this evening, there's time enough, and 'twould be so much saved out of to-morrow."

The boatman's advice was acted upon, and as they glided towards the island, f.a.n.n.y and Edward gazed delightedly on the towering summits of Magillicuddy's reeks, whose spiral pinnacles and graceful declivities told out sharply against the golden sky behind them, which, being perfectly reflected in the calm lake, gave a grand chain of mountain the appearance of being suspended in glowing heather, for the lake was one bright amber sheet of light below, and the mountains one ma.s.sive barrier of shade, till they cut against the light above. The boat touched the sh.o.r.e of Innisfallin, and the delighted pair of visitants hurried to its western point to catch the sunset, lighting with its glory the matchless foliage of this enchanting spot, where every form of grace exhaustless nature can display is lavished on the arborial richness of the scene, which, in its unequalled luxuriance, gives to a fanciful beholder the idea that the _trees themselves have a conscious pleasure in growing there._ Oh!

what a witching spot is Innisfallin!

Edward had never seen anything so beautiful in his life; and with the woman he adored resting on his arm, he quoted the lines which Moore has applied to the Vale of Cashmere, as he asked f.a.n.n.y would she not like to live there.

"Would you?" said f.a.n.n.y.

Edward answered--

"If woman can make the worst wilderness dear, Think--think what a heaven she must make of Cashmere."

They lingered on the island till the moon arose, and then re-embarked. The silvery light exhibited the lake under another aspect, and the dimly discovered forms of the lofty hills rose one above another, tier upon tier, circling the waters in their shadowy frame, the beauty of the scene reached a point of sublimity which might be called holy. As they returned towards the shelving strand, a long row of peeled branches, standing upright in the water, attracted f.a.n.n.y's attention, and she asked their use.

"All the use in life, my lady," said the boatman, "for without the same branches, maybe it's not home to-night you'd get."

On f.a.n.n.y inquiring further the meaning of the boatman's answer, she learned that the sticks were placed there to indicate the only channel which permitted a boat to approach the sh.o.r.e on that side of the lake, where the water was shoal, while in other parts the depth had never been fathomed.

An early excursion on the water was planned for the morning, and Edward and f.a.n.n.y were wakened from their slumbers by the tones of the bugle; a soft Irish melody being breathed by Spillan, followed by a more sportive one from the other minstrel of the lake, Ganzy.

The lake now appeared under another aspect--the morning sun and morning breeze were upon it, and the sublimity with which the shades of evening had invested the mountains was changed to that of the most varied richness; for Autumn hung out its gaudy banner on the lofty hills, crowned to their summits with all variety of wood, which, though tinged by the declining year, had scarcely shed one leafy honour. The day was glorious, and the favouring breeze enabled the boat to career across the sparkling lake under canvas, till the overhanging hills of the opposite side robbed them of their aerial wings, and the sail being struck, the boatmen bent to their oars. As they pa.s.sed under a promontory, clothed from the water's edge to its topmost ridge with the most luxuriant vegetation, it was pointed out to the lady as "the minister's back."

"'T is a strange name," said f.a.n.n.y. "Do you know why it is called so?"

"Faix, I dunna, my lady--barrin' that it is the best covered back in the country. But here we come to the _aichos_," said he, resting on his oars. The example was followed by his fellows, and the bugler, lifting his instrument to his lips, gave one long well-sustained blast. It rang across the waters gallantly. It returned in a few seconds with such unearthly sweetness, as though the spirit of the departed sound had become heavenly, and revisited the place where it had expired.

f.a.n.n.y and Edward listened breathlessly.

The bugle gave out its notes again in the well-known "call," and as sweetly as before the notes were returned distinctly.

And now a soft and slow and simple melody stole from the exquisitely played bugle, and phrase after phrase was echoed from the responding hills. How many an emotion stirred within Edward's breast, as the melting music fell upon his ear! In the midst of matchless beauties he heard the matchless strains of his native land, and the echoes of her old hills responding to the triumphs of her old bards. The air, too, bore with it historic a.s.sociations;--it told a tale of wrong and of suffering. The wrong has ceased, the suffering is past, but the air which records them still lives.

"Oh! triumph of the minstrel!" exclaimed Edward in delight. "The tyrant crumbles in his coffin, while the song of the bard survives! The memory of a sceptred ruffian is endlessly branded by a simple strain, while many of the elaborate chronicles of his evil life have pa.s.sed away and are mouldering like himself."

Scarcely had the echoes of this exquisite air died away, when the entrancement it carried was rudely broken by one of the vulgarest tunes being brayed from a bugle in a boat which was seen rounding the headland of the wooded promontory. Edward and f.a.n.n.y writhed, and put their hands to their ears. "Give way, boys!" said Edward; "for pity's sake get away from these barbarians. Give way!"

Away sprang the boat. To the boatman's inquiry whether they should stop at "Lady Kenmare's Cottage," f.a.n.n.y said "no," when she found on inquiry it was a particularly "show-place," being certain the vulgar party following _would_ stop there, and therefore time might be gained in getting away from such disagreeable followers.

Dinas Island, fringed with its lovely woods, excited their admiration, as they pa.s.sed underneath its shadows, and turned into Turk Lake; here the labyrinthine nature of the channels through which they had been winding was changed for a circular expanse of water, over which the lofty mountain, whence it takes its name, towers in all its wild beauty of wood, and rock, and heath.

At a certain part of the lake, the boatmen, without any visible cause, rested on their oars. On Edward asking them why they did not pull, he received this touching answer:--

"Sure, your honour would not have us disturb Ned Macarthy's grave!"

"Then a boatman was drowned here, I suppose?" said Edward.

"Yes, your honour." The boatman then told how the accident occurred "one day when there was a stag-hunt on the lake;" but as the anecdote struck Edward so forcibly that he afterwards recorded it in verse, we will give the story after his fashion.

MACARTHY'S GRAVE

I

The breeze was fresh, the morn was fair, The stag had left his dewy lair; To cheering horn and baying tongue, Killarney's echoes sweetly rung.

With sweeping oar and bending mast, The eager chase was following fast; When one light skiff a maiden steer'd Beneath the deep wave disappeared: Wild shouts of terror wildly ring, A boatman brave, with gallant spring And dauntless arm, the lady bore; But he who saved--was seen no more!

II

Where weeping birches wildly wave, There boatmen show their brother's grave; And while they tell the name he bore, Suspended hangs the lifted oar; The silent drops they idly shed Seem like tears to gallant Ned; And while gently gliding by, The tale is told with moistened eye.

No ripple on the slumbering lake Unhallow'd oar doth ever make; All undisturb'd, the placid wave Flows gently o'er Macarthy's grave.

Winding backwards through the channels which lead the explorers of this scene of nature's enchantment from the lower to the upper lake, the surpa.s.sing beauty of the "Eagle's nest" burst on their view; and as they hovered under its stupendous crags, cl.u.s.tering with all variety of verdure, the bugle and the cannon awoke the almost endless reverberation of sound which is engendered here. Pa.s.sing onward, a sudden change is wrought; the soft beauty melts gradually away, and the scene hardens into frowning rocks and steep acclivities, making a befitting vestibule to the bold and bleak precipices of "The Reeks," which form the western barrier of this upper lake, whose savage grandeur is rendered more striking by the scenes of fairy-like beauty left behind. But even here, in the midst of the mightiest desolation, the vegetative vigour of the numerous islands proves the wondrous productiveness of the soil in these regions.

On their return, a great commotion was observable as they approached the rapids formed by the descending waters of the upper lake to the lower, and they were hailed and warned by some of the peasants from the sh.o.r.e that they must not attempt the rapids at present, as a boat, which had just been upset, lay athwart the pa.s.sage. On hearing this, Edward and f.a.n.n.y landed upon the falls, and walked towards the old bridge, where all was bustle and confusion, as the dripping pa.s.sengers were dragged safely to sh.o.r.e from the capsized boat, which had been upset by the princ.i.p.al gentleman of the party, whose vulgar trumpetings had so disturbed the delight of Edward and f.a.n.n.y, who soon recognised the renowned Andy as the instigator of the bad music and the cause of the accident. Yes, Lord Scatterbrain, true to his original practice, was author of all.

Nevertheless, he and his party, soused over head and ears as they were, took the thing in good humour, which was unbroken even by the irrepressible laughter which escaped from Edward and f.a.n.n.y, as they approached and kindly offered a.s.sistance. An immediate removal to the neighbouring cottage on Dinas Island was recommended, particularly as Lady Scatterbrain was in a delicate situation, as well, indeed, as Mrs. Durfy, who, with her dear Tom, had joined Lord Scatterbrain's party of pleasure.

On reaching the cottage, sufficient change of clothes was obtained to prevent evil consequences from the ducking. This, under ordinary circ.u.mstances, might not have been easy for so many; but, fortunately, Lord Scatterbrain had ordered a complete dinner from the hotel to be served in the cottage, and some of the a.s.sistants from the Victoria, who were necessarily present, helped to dress more than the dinner. What between cookmaids and waiters, the care-taker of the cottage and the boatmen, bodies, and skirts, jackets and other conveniences, enabled the party to sit down to dinner in company, until fire could mend the mistake of his lordship. Edward and f.a.n.n.y courteously joined the party; and the honour of their company was sensibly felt by Andy and Oonah, who would have borne a ducking a day for the honour of having f.a.n.n.y and Edward as their guests. Oonah was by nature a nice creature, and adapted herself to her elevated position with a modest ease that was surprising. Even Andy was by this time able to conduct himself tolerably well at table--only on that particular day he did make a mistake; for when salmon (which is served at Killarney in all sorts of variety) made its appearance for the first time in the novel form "_en papillote_," Andy ate paper and all. He refused a second cutlet, however, saying he "_thought the skin tough_." The party, however, pa.s.sed off mirthfully, the very accident helping the fun; for, instead of any one being called by name, the "lady in the jacket," or the "gentleman in the bedgown," were the terms of address; and, after a merrily spent evening, the beds of the Victoria gave sleep and pleasing dreams to the sojourners of Killarney.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Party at Killarney]

Kind reader! the shortening s.p.a.ce we have prescribed to our volume warns us we must draw our story to an end. Nine months after this Killarney excursion, Lord Scatterbrain met d.i.c.k Dawson near Mount Eskar, where Lord Scatterbrain had ridden to make certain inquiries about Mrs. O'Connor's health. d.i.c.k wore a smiling countenance, and to Andy's inquiry answered, "All right, and doing as well as can be expected."

Lord Scatterbrain, wishing to know whether it was a boy or a girl, made the inquiry in the true spirit of Andyism--"Tell me, Misther Dawson, _are you an uncle or an aunt?_"

Andy's mother died soon after of the cold caught by her ducking. On her death-bed she called Oonah to her, and said, "I leave you this quilt, _alanna_--'t is worth more than it appears. The hundred-pound notes Andy gave me I quilted into the lining, so that if I lived poor all my life till lately, I died under a quilt of banknotes, anyhow."

Uncle Bob was gathered to his fathers also, and left the bulk of his property to Augusta, so that Furlong had to regret his contemptible conduct in rejecting her hand. Augusta indulged in a spite to all mankind for the future, enjoying her dogs and her independence, and defying Hymen and hydrophobia for the rest of her life.

Gusty went on profiting by the early care of Edward O'Connor, whose friendship was ever his dearest possession; and Ratty, always wild, expressed a desire for leading a life of enterprise. As they are both "Irish heirs," as well as Lord Scatterbrain, and heirs under very different circ.u.mstances, it is not improbable that in our future "accounts" something may yet be heard of them, and the grateful author once more meet his kind readers.

THE END